No Lying, No Hiding
by lolagirl
Summary: An insight into how Liam feels seeing Annie after enduring a summer without her.


**A/N** - For lack of a better title...Just a quick little oneshot taking place over the course of the first episode of season 3. Liam's perspective. :)  
**Disclaimer** - You know the drill. I don't own this stuff!

* * *

_No lying, no hiding._

When he heard her say those words, something inside of him just...clicked. An epiphany of some sort. A realization that slapped him across the face so hard that for one second, he couldn't breathe.

Had _he_ been lying and hiding all this time? He'd had himself convinced that she was nothing more than a friend, to the point where he'd actually started to believe it. And when he went an entire summer neither hearing from or seeing her, he'd convinced himself that he was pissed at her because she was being a lousy friend.

But really, it was because he had missed her so damn much.

Seeing her for the first time after nearly 3 months wasn't easy. She looked beautiful. Radiant. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She looked happy and it angered him that she could go so long without him and be all smiles, while he just wanted to punch something. Which was why when she walked up to him in the hallway with a simple, friendly greeting, he gave her a simple, not-so-friendly one in return.

"Screw you."

It was amazing just how much he could regret saying two little words. The expression on her face when she heard them was almost too much for him to handle. Crestfallen was probably the best word to describe it.

Heartbroken was another one.

He gave her no chance to explain herself. Instead, he slammed his locker door shut and walked away.

If he'd stayed, he would have caved. Apology or not, he would have forgiven her.

He just wasn't ready yet.

* * *

When the earthquake hit and he found himself under a table with her, he was annoyed. But at the same time, he was relieved. At least this way, he knew where she was. He knew she was safe, because she was with him. Because no matter how mad he was at her, he still cared. And if he had to, he would protect her.

He would never let anything happen to her.

Being stuck in the classroom with her, well...that was worse than taking cover under the desk. They were alone, just the two of them. They had to talk, otherwise it would have been too awkward. Too uncomfortable. Too out-of-character for them to not be speaking to each other.

She gave him some line about how she'd been so distracted with lawyers and house arrest to call him.

What a load of BS.

She dragged out of him the fact that his stepfather threw him out of the house and that Jasper had lit his boat on fire. She seemed genuinely shocked, appalled and apologetic all at once. She said she should have been there for him, and she was right.

But what she forgot to mention was that _he_ should have been there for _her._ And he would have. Every day. All day. As much as he could.

If only she had given him that chance.

* * *

When she begged him for a ride to her interview, his gut reaction was to turn her down.

But in that moment the word _no_ didn't exist to him anymore.

How could he purposefully make her miss out on something that was so potentially important...something that she wanted so bad? How could he not help her out in her time of need?

He was, after all, her friend.

During the ride, they didn't talk. He turned on the radio, classic rock, and stared straight ahead at the road. When they arrived at their destination, he pulled over to the curb and stopped. Before she got out, he'd found himself saying, "Good luck." And not only that, but he'd _meant_ it.

She knew he'd meant it too. He could tell by the way her face lit up. By the way she smiled at him.

And that's all it took. One smile, and he just couldn't stay mad at her.

She thanked him for the ride and got out of the car. She told him he didn't have to wait, that she would get her mother or her brother to come pick her up.

But no, he said. He would wait for her.

For as long as he had to.

* * *

She ran to him, all smiles, and he knew right away that everything had gone fine. He hadn't seen her this happy in a long time.

But she told him it went horrible. She told him that she'd come clean about everything, about the hit-and-run, the house arrest, the probation. She told him that she'd completely ruined her chances of any sort of internship, but she also told him that she didn't care.

She told him she was going to be a different person this year. No lying, no hiding.

And then he kissed her.

It was out-of-the-blue and unexpected even to him. He certainly hadn't planned it.

He would have been lying if he claimed that he'd never thought about kissing her. He just always thought that if it happened, it would occur anywhere but in a parking garage, next to his car with the hood popped open. So much for romance. But in that moment, he didn't care where they were. All he cared about was the feeling of her soft, warm lips molding to his. The feeling of her body pressed up against his own. The feeling of fabric gathering in the palms of his hands as he clung tightly to her.

Until this very moment, he only assumed he wanted this.

Now he _knew_.

When she pulled away from him, out of his embrace, he immediately felt cold and empty. He'd reached out to pull her back in, where she belonged, but she resisted.

She told him this – _this_ – was the reason she never called him this summer. Because she knew something like this would happen.

He was unable to hold back a grin when she said that. So she had felt it to. Whatever had been growing between them since last year. Hell, maybe further back than that even.

Her hesitation, he knew, had everything to do with Naomi. He couldn't blame her, really. Naomi had nearly ruined her life last year. Destroyed her reputation because she thought the two of them had slept together. Everything that had happened to her, everything down to the hit-and-run and Jasper, was a bit of Naomi's fault.

It was his fault too. He wasn't going to pretend like he didn't know that. And maybe that was part of her problem as well. Maybe she still held some resentment toward him for that. In a way, he hoped that she did. He wouldn't forgive himself so easily either.

In fact, he _hadn't_ yet.

But he assured her that Naomi was not a problem. What he'd had with her was over. For good this time. Naomi was over him and vice-versa. But somehow, that wasn't enough to convince her.

He suggested that Naomi wouldn't have to find out. They could lie and they could hide. Two things she was no longer interested in doing.

Not even with him.

They could still be friends though, she suggested. But the way she said it – like friendship was nothing more than a consolation prize – frustrated him. He wanted to kiss her again, and she was talking about being friends.

That just wasn't enough.

Her friendship had become the single most important thing in his life. When no one else was there for him, _she_ was. She listened to him. Consoled him. And when he was the only one there for her, she leaned on him. Trusted him. They were each other's rock.

He'd never had that before.

But now that he'd had a taste of something more, he couldn't accept going back to the way things were. When they kissed, he could feel it. How perfectly they fit together. He knew she could feel it too, but she was scared.

She was in denial.

He asked her what this all meant for the two of them. What if he didn't want to be friends?

Her answer, after a long pause, after she removed her pained gaze from his, was that she guessed that meant they weren't friends.

It was like a sucker punch to the gut when she turned and walked away. He stared after her, watching her go, completely numb. This hadn't ended the way he'd thought it would.

She was leaving. Giving up on them.

On _him_.

As her fading footsteps provided the soundtrack of her walking out of his life, he wanted to call after her. He wanted her to come back so he could tell her that being her friend was enough. Even though it wasn't, he would pretend it was. If it meant not losing her completely, he was willing to convince himself of absolutely anything.

* * *

That night, he sat behind the wheel of his car, staring down at his phone. He had her number dialed, all he had to do was hit send. But would she pick up?

He must have stared at that phone for hours, debating. He'd even planned out exactly what he was going to say to her. He was going to tell her that, after some serious contemplation of the day's events, he had come to the conclusion that the kiss had been a mistake. That he understood where she was coming from and agreed, and that he would be more than fine – grateful, even – to stay friends. Just friends.

Nothing more.

That phone call never took place.

Because even though he still wanted her friendship, he also wanted so much more. He wanted _all_.

And he didn't want to settle. That just wasn't in his nature.

If he had to, he would fight for her love. And he wouldn't give up until she was in his arms again.

No matter how long it took, he would wait for her.

She was worth it.


End file.
